


Laudanum Dreams

by Enk



Category: Master and Commander - Patrick O'Brian, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Genre: Drug Use, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, minor religious content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight, Jack finds Stephen in his quarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laudanum Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by events in the movie, written with booklore in mind. Set after the fight

“There is no time for your damned hobbies!”

Jack had been furious. Rightfully so of course, but Stephen was still too angry to admit to his defeat. As a captain of the Royal Navy, Jack Aubrey had demands to fulfill. His command was indeed what stood between order and chaos. Stephen knew that. He had known all that in the past years he had been friends with Jack, but still, the knowledge of passing up a flightless bird, curious beetles and alas swimming iguanas for another round of ‘Chase the phantom ship’ did not at all excite him. In fact, it made him miserable; and the thought of his dear, if sometimes brute, friend so angry with him.

Sighing, he turned back to sketching the Galapagos beetle, which young Lord Blakely had presented him with earlier. It was quite curious. A completely black shell rounded on its back, which could be parted to reveal thin and tiny wings which lent the beetle flight. Stephen wondered how far it would be able to fly before tiring. Surely not all the way back to the Galapagos, Stephen thought longingly, for a moment wishing he had wings to fly back these strange islands filled with unlimited wonders and new species just waiting for him to discover them. Anywhere was better than this ship at the current moment. Words between Jack and him had been scarce for a few days. Granted, it was the doctor who had decided on being stubborn and abrasive even when Jack tried to speak peace between them.

The coal scratched quietly against the paper, the form of the beetle slowly imprinting itself onto it. Stephen Maturin’s thoughts had drifted back to the Coleoptera when a heavy knock at his door startled him out of his concentration.

“Come in Come in,” the doctor rushed to grab his bag, for he expected an emergency with one of the crew. Even his usually professional stoicism was unable to conceal his surprise when a very tired looking captain opened the door. Jack looked not only tired, but exhausted. Even by candlelight, the deep rings under his eyes looked less than healthy. Jack’s skin was very pale bordering on sallow and his usually shimmering golden hair was dulled and messy. He was still wearing his uniform trousers and a grey woollen shirt that seemed to have missed a wash or two.  
“Jack,” Maturin promptly forgot to be abrupt, when he saw his friend in such disarray, “what is the meaning of this?”

The captain promptly plopped himself onto the chair Stephen had been sitting on.

“I cannot sleep doctor,” he truly looked terrible, “I’ve tried for a few days but as soon as I lay down in the cot a thousand thoughts begin to race through my head and there is nothing I can do to stop them. Pray tell doctor, am I suffering from some rare unknown tropical disease that could have caused this?”

The doctor looked at is friend with great concern as he grabbed the stethoscope from his bag and pulled the candle closer. Jack’s eyes were glazed as though he was suffering a fever, but his forehead was cool and moist with sweat.

“When was the last time you remember sleeping, Jack?”

“Three, perhaps four days ago.”

Stephen held the candle in front of Jack’s eyes but instead of his pupils contracting, the captain flinched and closed his eyes.

“Hmm, non-responsive pupils,” the doctor muttered under his breath.

His hand found Jack’s wrist, middle and forefinger gently digging into the skin just below the ball of his thumb.

“Goodness Jack,” his eyes widened, “if the Surprise were to travel as fast as your pulse, we would have caught the Acheron a week ago.”

The captain looked at him, great worry reflecting in his eyes at first. When his gaze fell upon Maturin who was barely able to keep a smirk from his lips; he broke out into hearty laughter followed by his friend.

“You had me there, doctor,” Jack spoke still smiling, “but if you could tell me what I am ailing from and possibly how to remedy it, I shall always be in your debt.”

“Well,” Stephen placed the stethoscope on the well-muscled chest of his old friend, “your heartbeat is fast and slightly irregular. But I believe this is on account of dire exhaustion. I am certain that all you need is a good night’s rest. “

He moved to the cabinet from which he retrieved a small decanter containing a dark liquid. He poured a small amount into a cup and pushed it in front of Jack.

“Drink this,” he said, “it will help you sleep.”

Jack lifted the up to his lips, but before a drop could pass them he moved the cup away from his face looking thoroughly disgusted.

“What is this?” he cried out, “ it smells more vile than a boat full of gangrenous lepers!”

“Poppy wine,” the doctor stated, “ten parts wine to one part laudanum. A wonderful sleeping draught that soothes the body and mind into a blissful sleep.”

“It is most vile,” Jack screwed up his face and swallowed the drink in one large gulp and coughed, “tastes worse… than it smells.”

“Indeed, but you will soon feel its onsets and drift off to sleep,” Stephen stood up, “you’re good to return to you quarters now. You will feel much better in the morning.”

The air had suddenly become awkward and the distance that seemed to have been bridged returned. Slowly, Jack moved to the door of the cabin. He did not fully step outside it but turned to face his friend who was about to put the decanter back into the cupboard.

“I am,” Jack cleared his throat, “I am sorry we could not remain longer at the Galapagos. I wish things had turned a different wind. I just wanted you to know that, Stephen.”

Stephen looked up into the honesty sparkling in his friend’s eyes. It was the same sort of gleam he had had in them when Stephen had asked if the master of the ship could order him to be flogged and Jack’s reply had been: “No, no, no, you’ll never be flogged.”

“Thank you, Ja- oh! Careful now!” forgotten was the decanter for Jack had begun staggering a little.

The laudanum seemed to have taken effect on his weakened system faster than Stephen had expected. He quickly rushed to support his friend who seemed to have decided to completely loose his balance here and now, which nearly caused them both to fall down. Stephen was not a weak man, but fourteen stones of muscle falling atop him were almost more than he could handle. Groaning, he managed to drag Jack into his closet-like cabin and successfully close the door. The crew did not need to see their captain so affected by a mere sleeping draught; and he was fairly certain that he needed the help of at least two men to heave Jack into his cabin – a commotion certainly uncalled for. The captain would sleep in his cabin, this way he could observe any sudden changes in his state.

“Now Jack,” he caught his breath, “ we’ll get you into bed as easy as one, two, three, alright?”

“Alright,” Jack’s eyes went out of focus for a moment.

“No, Jack, you can’t just pass out,” Stephen hissed, “I am not heaving you into my bed all by myself!”

He pushed Jack almost upright; his glasses fell to the floor as he did so.

“Stephen,” Jack’s eyes focused on, “have I ever told you how beautiful you look without your glasses on? Quite a magnificent piece of art you are.”

“That’s the laudanum speaking, Jack,” the doctor sighed, “I am no more or less beautiful than I was before. I am still the stubborn and cynic Irishman you met at the concert, my friend.” He carefully pushed his foot against Jack’s, slowly manoeuvring the man backwards to the hammock.

“Sit down, Jack,” he ordered.

And so Jack did, however Stephen did not expect him to grab hold of his shirt and pull him onto the hammock, which creaked under the weight it was not used to. The doctor found himself chest to chest with Captain Jack Aubrey beneath him, one of his legs hanging out of the canvas, causing great discomfort in his hip joint. Since Jack still had a strong hold on his shirt, his only means of removing the pressure from his hip was to move his leg into the hammock. Jack groaned with what Stephen Maturin first perceived as pain.

“I am so sorry, my friend,” he apologized trying to figure out where his friend felt such discomfort. Jack’s grip on his shirt tightened and when the captain opened his blue eyes again; they were afire with passion and clouded with the bliss of laudanum.

“Oh,” Stephen whispered in quiet understanding and realization that the position of his knee might very well have caused great discomfort under any other circumstance, but currently it was merely adding pressure onto something already quite under much pressure. The doctor felt himself blush slightly beneath his freckles.

“You are a very dear friend to me, doctor,” Jack’s voice was a husky rasp, “I hate it when we argue. I hate it when your spirit is hurt because of my duty and decisions. It truly is an awful sight to see you hurt.”

Concerned, Stephen felt his friend’s forehead. He seemed delirious with fever but his temperature was but slightly above normal. The laudanum, as weak as the mixture was, seemed to affect Jack a lot stronger than the doctor had ever seen before.

“Jack,” he whispered, “you must try to sleep. You need to rest.”

The air had become thick with desire and passion. Stephen could feel the captain’s breath on his face, sweet and heavy from wine and laudanum. He felt the throbbing desire of the man’s loins against his leg and in turn felt his own awaken. His throat felt unnaturally tight when he swallowed and his breath did not want to come evenly but dispersed from his lungs in ragged gasps.

Their faces were so close, that they almost touched by the nose. Their eyes were locked in a gaze that left Stephen’s head swimming as though it was he who had taken the laudanum. To Jack reality had lost its true face in the doorway and now it seemed to slip rapidly from the doctor’s grasp as well. The sweet breath of his friend upon his face sent his mind spiralling down a void beyond his recognition.

“Jack,” he gasped unable to form any other words, he found himself pressed against the man in a tight embrace. His eyes shimmered a most intense blue, like the ocean that was gently rocking the ship back and fourth. The sun-bleached hair seemed to shimmer golden in the candlelight and for a moment Stephen contemplated why he had never noticed the vibrant colour of Jack’s shoulder length hair.

“Stephen, “ Jack whispered, he had lifted his head so their lips were almost touching, “you are so far away, my friend.”

The doctor knew that he should have made his decision to stop this right then and there, but he did not. He said nothing as he felt the soft skin of Jack’s lips against his own. He spoke not a word but swore he felt a spark pass between them - a spark that transferred to his spine and lit an ever-growing flame in each vertebra. Stephen gasped when the flame reached his loins just in time as he felt Jack’s tongue part his lips.

Their lips melted together in a kiss not altogether fiery in passion but also not at all chaste. It was a kiss saturated with deep friendship and love for one another – an expression of love that could not have been articulated by any other means. Stephen’s mind became too clouded to think as he felt jack’s rough hands pull on his shirt and exposing the freckled expanse of his chest.

“Beautiful,” Jack muttered under his breath, “my beautiful cultured friend. How does a brute like me deserve such beauty as this?”

Jack’s lips suckled the nape of Stephen’s neck, but not hard enough to leave a mark. He was too precious as to be marked like a mere lass in heat. The captain’s lips slowly travelled from the doctor’s neck to his collarbone and across his chest, leaving a small trail of sparkling saliva as they did. Stephen’s breath hitched in his throat when he felt the warm muscle of Jack’s tongue lap across his nipple.

“Jack,” Stephen half cried half gasped as he felt his friend’s lips wrap around the erecting peak and suckle, leaving a darkened pearl upon his chest before doing the same to the other.

Lips found his again, delving into a kiss now driven by passion and friendship, deepest comradery and respect. It was a deep bruising kiss to which Stephen responded in kind. Forgotten were etiquette and all barriers that had held them back before. This moment mattered now, and nothing else. Jack growled deeply and like the predator he was as a captain, Stephen discovered, he also was in bed. Before he knew it; their roles were reversed and the doctor found his back against the coarse material of the hammock and a ravenous looking Captain Jack Aubrey above him, shedding both their trousers off their longing flesh.  
Jack straddled Stephen’s thighs and merely looked at him. The laudanum had sparked his eyes an even more vibrant blue now. Stephen was fairly certain they would glow once the candle burnt out, which would be quite soon for it flickered desperately in the bottom of its holder now, basking them in an almost eerie light. Sweat shimmered on their bodies while they breaths came ragged. The Irishman felt himself fall deeper into the temptation that this blue-eyed devil, his friend was driving him to.

The captain’s hair had fallen into his face as he watched his friend from hungry eyes. He looked at Stephen with heavy lidded eyes. His breath was heavy and deep. The doctor guessed vaguely that he was about to peak in his laudanum high, but the thought disappeared into the void that became Stephen’s mind, for rough hands had found his throbbing manhood. He wanted to cry out, but bit his head as though not to alarm the crew. The rough hand stroked his length slowly. Again those wild eyes looked at him. Somehow, he had reached for the laudanum wine without Stephen noticing.

“If I lead you to temptation,” the captain whispered, “will you forgive me?” He held the decanter above Stephen’s mouth. The doctor parted his lips and the warm liquid flowed down his throat. It no longer tasted vile, but like the ambrosia of temptation. Jack’s tongue slid around the head of his erection. The sudden warmth was nearly enough to send him beyond the brink of sanity.

“Yes,” he gasped, “ I do. I do forgive you.”

The decanter fell to the floor. A flash passed before his eyes and his teeth sank into the back of hid hand as Jack Aubrey’s mouth wrapped firmly around his slender shaft, taking him in until he nuzzled the thatch of auburn curls. Then he removed his lips from him completely and licked the tip with but the tip of his tongue only to repeat his previous actions. The laudanum drew Stephen deeper and deeper into the arms of passion. His heart was racing, his breath so ragged he was sure he would faint. Just before he reached the apex of all imaginable pleasure; he groped Jack’s shoulders, trying to pull the man up toward him.

Jack complied and wedged his knee firmly between Stephen’s thighs so that their hard flesh rubbed against each other. The kiss was ravenous, primal, passionate, bruising. Stephen felt his lower lip split under the force but he cared not. They needed to consume each other, to make the sin worthwhile for there was no turning back now. Jack grunted as he began to thrust against the doctor’s throbbing flesh. Pleasure’s flame ignited like Greek fire with water, each thrust was another part of the ocean that drove the fire to greater heights.

Stephen closed his eyes as a sudden wave of warmth engulfed him. Laudanum should have never affected him in such ways, he thought himself think, but he no longer was sure. The constant friction against his erection forced all coherent thought from his mind. He looked up at Jack, whose face was so close, so comforting, so loving as he thrust himself against his friend.

“I don’t know what is real anymore, Stephen,” he whispered, his eyes glowing deeply.

The doctor wanted to reply that neither did he, but instead a moan escaped his lips. Jack caught the sound with a gentle kiss. He thrust harder and harder; their erections plump and aching for release.

“Forgive me, doctor,” he moaned, “forgive this sin.”

Each word was emphasized by a particular hard thrust. Stephen could not cry out. No sound was able to sum up how he felt when Jack’s thrusts pushed him over the brink. It was as though his soul was levitating above his body, as though Jack’s very thrusts had pushed it out of him. His voice and sight failed him. All he could see were Jack’s glowing eyes as he felt his own seed spurt over their chests and bellies. He heard Jack’s breath by his ear, stopping the moment he came violently over Stephen’s chest, followed by a soft cry. Then his chest heaved again as he collapsed against his friend, who had felt a dribble of Jack’s essence splash against his lips and licked them tasting the bitter sweet tang of it.

He pulled Jack close into a slow, exhausted kiss. The captain’s lips slipped from his, hands that were tightly wrapped about him slowly slid limp along his body. Even and deep breath told Stephen that his friend had fallen fast asleep against his shoulder. He caressed the golden locks staring against the ceiling of his cabin. The laudanum was sending his mind deeper into a reality not his own.

“ I do not know what is real either, Jack,” he whispered, his mind leaving his body as he continued staring at the ceiling, “may our sins be forgiven.”

  
Fin.


End file.
